


Watch Over Me

by diablo77



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Meg Masters in a Wheelchair, Pregnant Meg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28437714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diablo77/pseuds/diablo77
Summary: Cas has returned from the Empty - with a few surprises.
Relationships: Castiel/Meg Masters, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Megstiel Family Holiday Gift Exchange





	Watch Over Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mouse9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/gifts).



“The dimensions of this room seem adequate.” Castiel’s voice booms down the hall of the bunker from the empty room he’s been inspecting. He emerges into the study with his trench coat rumpled and his hair standing on end, a long end of a measuring tape unraveling out of his pocket.

Meg smirks at the tape. “Gee, Clarence,” she drawls, “is that a measuring tape in your pocket or–”

“Okay, enough,” Dean says, screwing up his face in exaggerated disgust. He’s been making that face a lot lately, ever since Cas came back from the Empty – and didn’t come alone.

The Winchester brothers had been surprised, but happy, when after hearing a crash in the dungeon and running toward the sound they’d seen Castiel materializing through a black rift in the wall. Once his full body came into view, though, they’d seen that he was holding a smaller body in his arms – a familiar shape with a black leather jacket and long, tangled blonde hair.

“Meg?” Sam had gasped.

“Who were you expecting, the Queen of England?” Meg lifted her head from Cas’s shoulder and the brothers could see that she seemed fine, the cuts and bruises she’d had on her face the last time they saw her healed. Cas lowered Meg into the nearest chair. That’s when Sam and Dean noticed that something else was different about her.

“Seriously, Cas?” said Dean. He pointed at Meg. “Did you do this?”

Protectively, Meg’s hands flew to her rounded belly. “ _This_ is a miracle of… well, not nature, but _something_.”

Sam furrowed his brow in Castiel’s direction. “Is it… yours?”

Castiel paused and looked upward in thought. “More than anything, I suppose, I would say it’s Meg’s at the moment,” he said. “Considering the child is still inside her body. However, the conception was… a joint effort.”

“I thought everything in the Empty was asleep,” Dean grumbled.

“They were, until Jack came in with the soul bomb. The explosion caused a kind of ripple effect. Many of the beings in the Empty woke up.”

“And this is how you spent your time there? Banging demons?”

“Rude!” Meg gasped in mock offense.

At the same time, Cas screwed up his face in confusion. “One demon,” he muttered. “Singular.”

“It had been a while,” Meg said. “We had some catching up to do.” She glanced up at Cas, one of her eyebrows hitching tauntingly. But they were both thinking about the moment that Cas had found Meg in the Empty – the real Meg, the one that he knew right away was her because it _felt_ like her, it felt like home – and he’d wrapped her in his arms and whispered _I will never let you go again_ as he held her body tightly against his.

Now, Meg sits at the table with the Winchesters while Cas assesses the potential of a former storage room adjacent to the bedroom in the bunker that’s become theirs since they’ve been back. They’re thinking it might make a decent nursery.

“Is this kid of yours even going to sleep?” Dean asks between sips of his beer. He and Sam each have one, but Meg, surprising them both, abstains. She focuses instead on a blanket she’s been knitting out of ominous-looking grayish thread.

“I don’t know,” Castiel replies. “There is lore of the children of angels and humans, demons and humans… but a child of an angel and a demon, well, it’s… unprecedented.”

“That doesn’t sound terrifying at all,” Dean says, kicking his feet up onto the table and taking another sip.

Seeing the expression on Castiel’s face, Sam says, “We’ll figure it out.” He gestures at Meg’s blanket. “Uh, what kind of yarn is that?”

“It’s not _yarn_ ,” Meg snorts. “Spidersilk. Black widow. You gotta give the kid something _strong_.”

“Uh… yeah. Sure.” Sam awkwardly takes another sip of his own beer.

***

He’s still sitting at the table late that night when Castiel comes out of his and Meg’s room. Dean has gone to bed, but Sam is still up reading. Sometimes he likes being alone with his books in these late hours. There’s something peaceful about it. But he can see right away that his friend is troubled.

“Cas? What’s wrong?”

Castiel sighs and pulls out a chair across from Sam. Settling into it, he says, “I know you have cause to fear my– what Meg and I are bringing into this world. I understand your caution. Your worry.”

“Cas,” Sam says slowly. “I get it. I do. It’s new to us, and we don’t know what we’re up against. But it’s not the first time we’ve been down this road. With Jack – even with you, in a way! – we didn’t know what would happen. But we trusted that goodness could win, and we weren’t wrong.” Sam reaches across the table and sets his hand over Castiel’s. “You’re family to us now. And Meg, she’s like family too because you love her. Your family’s family becomes your family.” Cas nods.

***

Cas doesn’t get much rest when he returns to the room he shares with Meg. The two of them never really sleep, but since the Empty they’ve found an appreciation for lying down together in peaceful silence while the others sleep around them. Cas curls his body around Meg’s and feels her settle into his with a soft sigh, but he can’t shut off the racing thoughts in his mind.

In the morning, they leave their bed and stumble down the hall to the kitchen – or rather, Cas stumbles while Meg rolls in the wheelchair they’ve found her. The Empty didn’t restore her ability to walk after Crowley’s attack severed her vessel’s spine, but that hasn’t slowed her down. Despite not sleeping, though, she always insists she’s not ready to be nice until she’s had coffee (to which Dean usually responds with something like _When are you_ ever _nice?_ ).

Today, though, Sam intercepts them in the hallway. “Before you do anything,” he says, “I have something to show you guys.” He turns them around and points them back down the hall in the direction they came, passing their room and stopping at the small unmarked door at the end of the hall. “Ta-daa!” Sam flings open the door. The storage space has been cleared out, replaced by built-in shelves and a wooden crib.

Castiel runs his fingers along the smooth wood. “Where did you get this?”

“I made it!”

“Well, look who’s got hidden talents,” Meg says with a smile. “I had been planning to have one made from the bones of my enemies, but this will do for now.”

Sam’s own smile twitches. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”

“What? It’s a family tradition.”

“I, uh, I made you something too.” They turn to see Dean coming through the door, holding something behind his back. He brings them around to reveal a small, crudely whittled angel. “I know it ain’t fancy. But my mom had one like it in our nursery from when we were kids… said angels were watching over us.” He laughs. “I know better now. But our family has traditions, too.”

“Why, Dean,” Meg gasps, clasping her hand to her chest. “Are you welcoming me into the family?”

“Don’t push it,” Dean says with a smile, setting the angel on the shelf above the crib.

“I’ve already got an angel watching over me,” Meg says, as Cas wraps his arms around her from behind her chair. With a gentle flap, his shiny iridescent wings unfold and circle around her too, crossing over the bloom of her belly. “Kid too. But,” she looks up at the brothers standing on either side of them, “it’s good he doesn’t have to do all the work himself.” Sam and Dean smile at each other across Castiel’s bent shoulders. “Okay,” Meg says, dusting her palms on her knees as Cas’s wings retract. “Enough sappy stuff. Who’s gonna make me some coffee?”


End file.
